


reasons to survive

by splendidlyimperfect



Series: i'm with them [49]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cats, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Established Relationship, Forehead Kisses, Froshe is a good girl, Gray is Not Good, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Sting talks him through it, Suicidal Thoughts, me? projecting on gray? absolutely, soft boyfriends, this one's for all you guys who ask for angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24935677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/splendidlyimperfect/pseuds/splendidlyimperfect
Summary: Gray's depression keeps getting worse and he doesn't know how to make it better.
Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney/Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney/Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney/Natsu Dragneel/Sting Eucliffe/Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Sting Eucliffe/Gray Fullbuster
Series: i'm with them [49]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1181153
Comments: 32
Kudos: 135





	reasons to survive

**Author's Note:**

> **TW for suicidal thoughts, talking about suicide, depression, mental health crisis**. please read the tags and take care of yourself <3
> 
> this takes place a month or so before [sunshine and whiskey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825778) \- it's referenced in chapter two. yes, i'm projecting on gray. covid and confinement and all this shit fucking sucks, especially with existing mental health conditions. at least he has his boyfriends to give him cuddles. 
> 
> find me on tumblr as [@splendidlyimperfect](https://splendidlyimperfect.tumblr.com/) or check out the OT4 blog at [@gratsustingue-the-ot4](https://gratsustingue-the-ot4.tumblr.com/)

_Reasons not to kill myself_

_1._

Gray stares at the blank list, pen heavy in his hand. He’d thought about using the new journal Sting got him – it’s deep blue with soft gold letters on it that read _there is life after survival –_ but Gray’s not sure he believes that, and he doesn’t want to dirty the pages with the dark thoughts in his head.

_1._

It’s stupid. This whole thing is stupid. If he could just fucking sleep, he’d wake up tomorrow and realize that he’s fine, that he’s just being melodramatic, that he’s loved and important and more than just the heavy sense of worthlessness that’s been following him around for so long.

_1\. It won't last forever._

He wipes angrily at the tears that keep falling, hot and hard and making the corners of his eyes itch and sting.

_2._

He has to have three. Three reasons - that’s what his therapist says. Three reasons to not end it all because it’s too fucking hard to live like this. His brain is wrong and broken and nobody can fix it, and he’s never going to be like everybody else.

He takes a shuddering breath and looks over at the bedroom. Everyone is asleep – he can hear Rogue snoring and he knows that Sting is curled around Natsu like always. Gray squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to picture the look on Sting’s face if he knew what Gray was thinking about.

_2\. They would blame themselves._

He’s not supposed to put other people on the list. The reasons are supposed to be his own, but he just can’t find any. Nothing is right and he can’t hear anything but the voice in his head that says _useless_ and _worthless_ and _you’re never going to get better._

_3._

The writing is shaky and Gray sets the pen down, rubbing both hands over his face to try and stem the tears. They won’t stop coming. All he fucking does is cry, and he’s so goddamn sick of it. He’s sick of everything.

_3._

The number stares at him and he stares back through the tears, vision blurry. There’s nothing. His brain can’t come up with a single fucking thing. If he’s not here, nobody has to worry. Nobody has to care, nobody has to make him feel better, nobody has to take time off work to come home and take care of him.

They’re fine without him. Natsu is sunny and sweet, Rogue is smart and caring, and Sting is the brightest person Gray’s ever known. All Gray does is taint that light with his darkness – his stupid, angry sadness that nobody should have to deal with. Being with him just makes everyone’s lives so goddamn difficult. He knows they talk about him. He’s heard Natsu on the phone, saying things like _I’m worried about him,_ and _he’s getting worse,_ and _I don’t know what to do._

_I’m sorry,_ Gray thinks, trying to breathe around the heavy ache in his chest. He pushes the notebook and the pencil away and runs his hands through his hair, tugging on it in frustration. _I’m sorry that I’m like this. I’m sorry I can’t be better. I’m sorry I can’t be like you._

There’s a quiet, muffled sound from the bedroom followed by a quiet thump, and then Frosche meanders out of the bedroom, blinking slowly awake. When she sees Gray at the table, she heads straight for him, meowing curiously and rubbing herself against his leg.

“Don’t,” he whispers, shaking his head as guilt wells up in his chest. “Don’t, I—it’s better. It’ll be better. You’ll be… you’ll be fine.”

She meows at him again and he nudges her away, quickly standing up and heading for the bathroom. Frosche tries to follow him but he shuts the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. A sob breaks out of him when she starts to scratch at it.

“Go away,” he pleads, backing up until his calves hit the tub and he sits down on the edge. “Please.”

She meows one more time and then wanders away, and Gray waits until he hears her jump back on the bed before letting out another quiet sob. He covers his face with both hands and tries to hold the tears in, but they’re like a living thing now, tearing themselves out of his body.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Fuck, I c-can’t… I can’t.” He’s not sure which he means – _I can’t kill myself_ or _I can’t keep living._

Gray glances up at the medicine cabinet, thinking about the bottles of pills lined up inside. His mind is so full, like jumping back and forth between channels on the radio and finding nothing but static. Part of him wants to go to the bedroom, wants to wake someone up and ask for help. But they’ve already done so much for him and he can’t ask for more.

It’s too much.

He’s not enough.

It’ll be better when it’s over.

* * *

Sting wakes up to a face full of fur and a quiet but insistent meow.

“‘s matter?” he asks groggily, frowning when he realizes that Frosche is nearly sitting on his face. She meows at him again, rubbing her head against his cheek, and he pushes himself up on one elbow, yawning. The clock on the bedside table reads 2:26 a.m.

“It’s the middle of the night, darling,” Sting says quietly, moving to pet Frosche. She backs away from his touch and hops down to the floor, trotting over to the bedroom door and meowing again.

Sting rubs his face, looking down at Natsu’s arm around his waist and then over at Rogue, who’s curled up not far from him. When he turns to look at Gray, he realizes that the other side of the bed is empty.

He’s immediately wide awake as a cold fear races through him. “Fuck,” he whispers as he pushes Natsu’s arm away and scoots off the end of the bed to where Frosche is pacing in circles. “Where is he?”

Frosche runs down the hallway to the bathroom and Sting follows quickly, heart breaking when he hears Gray’s quiet sobs.

“Gray?” he asks gently, knocking on the door. “What’s wrong, love?” There’s no answer. “I’m gonna open the door, okay?”

“Don’t,” comes the tearful answer, but Sting shakes his head and twists the handle.

The lights are off, but moonlight from the living room spills into the bathroom and highlights the tub where the curtain is pushed back. Sting freezes when he sees that the medicine chest is open and two of the bottles of pills are sitting on the counter.

“Shit,” he breathes, dropping to his knees and pulling back the shower curtain. Gray’s pressed up against the wall, knees against his chest, shaking with sobs that he’s trying desperately to hold in. “Gray, did you take something?”

Gray doesn’t answer and Sting goes to pull his phone from his pocket, cursing when he realizes that he left it in the bedroom. “Look at me, love,” he says gently, trying to keep his voice steady. He reaches out to touch Gray’s leg but Gray shakes his head, pushing himself as far back into the corner as he can go.

“Sweetheart, I need you to look at me,” Sting says. “Can you do that for me? C’mon, just look at me. I won’t touch you, okay?”

Gray peeks up at him over the tops of his knees and Sting tries his best to give him a reassuring smile. His throat feels like it’s closing up and he can barely breathe, but he forces himself to speak through the panic. “There you go,” he says. “It’s gonna be okay, love. I just need you to tell me if you took any of the pills up there.”

There’s a terrifying moment of silence, and Sting’s about to shout for the other two when Gray shakes his head. Sting exhales in relief, but the panic still thrums beneath his skin.

“That’s good,” he says. “That’s really good. Can you answer another question for me?” Gray doesn’t answer, just bites back another sob. “I need to know if you hurt yourself.” Gray flinches and Sting’s heart aches. “I’m not mad, sweetheart, I promise. Nobody’s angry, I just wanna make sure you’re safe.”

Gray curls in on himself again as a loud, aching sound breaks out of him. Sting glances out the door, then back at Gray, trying to see his arms. “Please?” he tries again. “You don’t have to say anything, just nod or shake your head. Did you hurt yourself?”

Sting barely catches the tiny shake of Gray’s head, and he nearly cries with relief. “Okay, that’s good. You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” He reaches out to touch Gray again, then pulls back at the last second. “What do you need?”

There’s no answer other than another sob, and Sting can see Gray’s jaw clenched to try to keep in the sound. There’s a quiet murmur from the bedroom and then soft light spills into the hallway. Natsu appears in the doorway, rubbing his eyes and looking around blearily.

“It’s okay,” Sting says when Natsu finally sees them. Natsu’s eyes widen in concern, but Sting shakes his head, holding out his hand to keep Natsu from coming over. He can tell Gray’s on the edge, and he doesn’t want to overwhelm him.

“We’re okay,” he says loud, hoping the look he’s giving Natsu is reassuring. “We’re gonna be fine.”

“N-no,” Gray manages, voice rough and broken.

“No, what?” Sting asks, turning back to Gray. He’s still curled up as tightly as possible, arms wrapped around his legs now, forehead pressed to his knees.

“‘s not fine. I c-can’t—I don’t…” Gray chokes on the words and when another cry escapes from him, this time he lets it. Sting feels his own tears start to well up at the sight of one of his favorite people in so much pain.

“I’m sorry you’re hurting so badly,” he says softly. Then he adds, “I love you,” because he’s not sure what else to say.

“Don’t,” Gray insists, shaking his head. “Please, I can’t, I don’t w-want…”

“Don’t want what?”

Gray digs his nails into his forearms and whispers, “I don’t want to be alive anymore.”

Sting knows that Natsu hears the words because there’s a soft, pained sound from behind him. His own chest burns and his hands tremble as he tries to find the right words to make it better.

“I do,” he tries, not sure if it’s the right thing to say. “I really, really want you to be alive.”

“Wh-why?” Gray demands between loud, aching sobs. “There’s no p-point, none of it—it’s not gonna stop, never, and I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—”

Sting feels something nudge his leg and when he looks down, his phone is there, slid across the floor. Natsu’s still standing a bit away where Gray can’t see him, and gestures to the phone where a text flashes across the screen.

_shuld i call 911?_

Sting hesitates, looking between the phone and Gray. Part of him wants Natsu to come over and help – he’s been with Gray longer and he always seems to know the right things to say. But Gray’s so precarious right now, on the edge, and Sting’s terrified of pushing him further into his fears.

_Not yet,_ he types back quickly with one hand. _He didn’t take anything, and I don’t think he hurt himself. Don’t want to overwhelm him._

Natsu looks down at his phone, then nods and looks back at the bedroom. _im gona wake rogue up. lmk if u need us._

Sting gives Natsu a quick nod, then turns back to Gray. “It sounds like you’re really overwhelmed right now,” he says gently, shifting until he’s sitting on the floor of the bathroom with one arm up on the side of the tub.

Gray doesn’t answer, just keeps crying. He doesn’t try to hold it back anymore, and each sob cracks Sting’s heart a little bit more. All he can think about is the time when their positions were reversed, and he was sitting on the bathroom floor hyperventilating while Gray pulled him back from the edge of an anxiety attack.

“I know things are really tough right now,” Sting tries again. “It probably feels pretty hopeless, hey?”

“I h-hate it,” Gray says, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I can’t—it’s so loud and I don’t want to, to…” Another sob interrupts him, and he presses his face into his arms. “It’s too much and I just want it to stop.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Sting says, trying to hold back his own tears. “It sounds like your brain is telling you some pretty scary things right now.”

“It’s broken. _I’m_ broken.”

Everything in Sting screams at him to say, _you aren’t, you’re not broken, you’re perfectly imperfect and I love everything that you are,_ but he knows that’s not going to mean anything to Gray right now. He’s too far past reasoning, and Sting’s desperate to pull him back.

_Assess,_ he thinks, trying to remember the mental health crisis program he’d taken through work. _He’s safe, he can’t hurt himself right now, we don’t need to call anyone._ Sting hopes he’s right.

_Asses, listen, give reassurance._

“You’ve got depression,” he says carefully. “That’s just like any other illness and it’s not your fault. But sometimes it tells you things that aren’t true, and it makes you feel hopeless.”

“I don’t want to _be_ like this anymore,” Gray insists. He finally lifts his head from his arms and the heartbroken expression on his face nearly tears Sting apart. “I don’t wanna… I don’t want to _be._ I don’t want to be alive. I hate it.”

“I know,” Sting says. “I know you do, and it’s so hard, especially right now. It must be really scary to not be able to control those thoughts.” His mind races through all the different workshops he’s taken with the daycare, desperately trying to find the right things to say to keep Gray present.

“I can’t do this.” Gray’s voice is weak and broken. “I c-can’t stop thinking about... about...”

_Give it a name,_ Sting remembers. _Don’t be scared to talk about it._

“About suicide?” he asks. The word hurts, and when Gray doesn’t respond, Sting adds, “You’ve been thinking about killing yourself?”

Gray nods and Sting can’t stop the tears that start to roll down his cheeks.

“You’re so brave,” he says, shifting until he’s on his knees again and holding his hand out between them. “Your brain is giving you all these really scary things to think about, but you’re still here. You’re fighting and surviving and I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m so tired,” Gray whispers. He stares at Sting’s outstretched hand but doesn’t take it. “I can’t fix it, and I try s-so hard because I don’t want to feel like this.” He looks up at Sting again. “I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to think these things, I don’t want—I wanna be like you, but I can’t.”

Sting wants to disagree with him, wants to tell him how wrong he is because Gray is perfect the way he is, sadness and all, but he knows now isn’t the time.

“It’s too much,” Gray adds. He sniffs and rubs his eyes. “All the—I keep thinking about the future and I can’t, it’s... sometimes I wake up and I don’t even think I can make it to the end of the day.” His gaze slips away from Sting’s and drifts back to the sink where the pill bottles are sitting. “I wanna go to sleep. And...” He swallows. “I don’t wanna wake up.”

* * *

Gray sees a flash of hurt cross Sting’s face at the words, and he’s hit with another wave of overwhelming guilt.

“All I do is hurt people,” he whispers. “Nothing—I can’t do anything r-right, I can’t—you always have to take c-care of me and it’s stupid, I’m stupid, sh-shouldn’t be like this, I d-don’t...” He wants to stop himself, but he can’t, and it just keeps pouring out of him with a fresh wave of tears. “It h-hurts,” he cries. “I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know h-how to fix it, I can’t, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Sting says, but Gray shakes his head. It’s not. Nothing is okay. This is exactly what he didn’t want because now Sting is crying and it’s just hurt, hurt, hurt. “Gray, sweetheart, you need to breathe or you’re gonna pass out.”

_Good,_ Gray thinks. He can’t breathe, can’t do anything except wish it would all just _end._

“Natsu, Rogue!” Sting shouts, and Gray flinches at the sound. “Help!” There are footsteps in the hall. Gray’s skin itches and he wants to tear himself to pieces. “Should we call an ambulance?”

Natsu says something but Gray can’t hear it. He can’t catch his breath; it sticks in his throat and aches. He can’t stop shaking. Rogue’s there now, too, and they’re all watching, seeing him fall to pieces, and he can’t stop.

“Gray, I’m gonna touch you, okay?” Natsu’s voice is closer now. Gray can’t open his eyes, can’t even shake his head. “It’s just me,” Natsu reassures him, and Gray feels him step into the tub and crouch down next to him. “I’m gonna touch your arm.”

Gray flinches at the feel of Natsu’s hand on him but he can’t pull away – he’s already backed into the corner and has nowhere to go. “Here,” Natsu says, sliding his hand down into Gray’s and pressing something into his palm.

It’s cold, and the shock ripples up through Gray’s arm and interrupts the frantic pace of his breathing. He stares down at the ice cube in his hand, and Natsu’s fingers wrapped around it.

“There you go,” Natsu says. He slowly runs his other hand up Gray’s arm as the sharp cold of the ice stings his skin. “That’s good, you’re doing so good. Try to take a deep breath, okay?” His fingers brush Gray’s temple. Gray can’t stop shivering.

“Like this.” Sting’s voice again. He’s still crouched in front of the tub and he takes a deep breath, then blows it out slowly, like the candles on a cake. Gray watches his chest rise and fall. There are tears on Sting’s cheeks.

“Focus on the cold,” Natsu says, running his fingers through Gray’s hair and holding the ice cube against his palm. “Try holding your breath for a few seconds. Can you do that?” Gray tries but it hurts, and he can’t get enough air. Everything’s blurry and he can’t stop crying. He can hear Rogue’s voice in the background, but it’s overridden by white noise.

“We need to get him out of here,” Natsu says. “Out to the couch. Can you carry him?”

Gray doesn’t have time to decide if he wants that or not because suddenly there are arms around him and he’s being lifted into the air, against Sting’s chest. Time is moving strangely and Gray feels not quite real, so he slumps against Sting and listens to the frantic racing of his heart.

“No, he’s not in danger right now.” Rogue’s voice is back. He sounds like he’s on the phone. “He hasn’t hurt himself.” Sting sits down on the couch and Gray clings to him, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly as he struggles to breathe.

“I’ve got you,” Sting reassures him, shifting so Gray’s curled up against his chest. “We’re all here, you’re gonna be okay.” He kisses Gray’s forehead, then looks up. “Grab the blanket,” he says. “My weighted one from the bedroom; it’s on the dresser.”

A few seconds later, something warm and heavy is draped over Gray, pressing him closer to Sting. The ice is still melting in his hand, and a damp patch is forming on his sweatpants. Someone touches his arm, rolls up his sleeves, presses gentle fingertips to the inside of his wrists.

“Just keep breathing,” Natsu says, settling down next to them and brushing Gray’s sweaty hair out of his face. “You’re doing such a good job. In and out.”

Natsu takes Gray’s hand and places it on his chest, taking slow, measured breaths for Gray to copy. Gray manages one shaky breath, then another, following Natsu’s gentle words and Sting’s hand running up and down his back. Rogue settles down on the floor next to them – he’s still talking on the phone, but Gray can’t focus on what he’s saying.

“There you go,” Natsu says once Gray’s finally managed to stop crying. “You’re safe. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

Gray’s too tired to argue. The pain and frustration have melted like the ice in his hand, and he’s left with nothing but a deep exhaustion that spreads through him until he can barely move.

“‘m sorry,” he says softly, sniffling and reaching up to rub at his face.

“Don’t apologize,” Natsu says, shaking his head. Gray searches his expression for frustration or anger, but all he finds is love and relief. Natsu tucks Gray’s hair behind his ear and runs his thumb across his cheek. Gray’s skin feels hot and swollen, and the corners of his eyes sting.

“We’re so proud of you.” Rogue sets his phone down on the coffee table and touches the back of Gray’s hand. Gray opens his fist slowly, letting Rogue slide their fingers together.

“Why?” he whispers. Shame lingers behind the exhaustion.

“Because you’re here,” Rogue says. He squeezes Gray’s hand and gives him a soft, fond look. “I know it sucks, and we know how hard you’re trying. Feeling like this doesn’t make you weak or stupid.”

Gray stares at his hands. “It… I feel…”

“You’re one of the strongest people I know,” Natsu says gently. He snuggles closer to Sting and kisses Gray’s forehead. “Depression sucks and it’s so unfair, and you fight so hard, every day.”

Gray feels like crying again, but he has nothing left to give. “I don’t feel strong,” he says. He can barely move his arms. “I feel broken.”

“I know you do, love,” Rogue says. “But you’re sick, and that’s not your fault.” He runs his thumb across Gray’s palm. “That was the crisis team I was talking to on the phone. Do you feel like you need to go to the hospital right now?”

Gray shakes his head. The last thing he wants is to leave the apartment and sit in the emergency room with his mind racing like this. “I wanna stay here,” he says, turning and pressing his face into Sting’s shoulder. Sting kisses the top of his head and holds him close.

“I love you,” he says quietly, lips pressed to Gray’s temple. “All of you. Even the parts of you that hurt.”

“I love you too,” Gray mumbles against Sting’s chest. The overwhelming panic from earlier is slowly fading away. “I didn’t mean—it’s not because—”

“Shh.” Rogue squeezes Gray’s hand. “You don’t have to explain. We’ll get through this together. We’re gonna call the psychiatrist tomorrow and talk about your medication, okay?”

Gray nods, blinking slowly and yawning before he can stop himself. “‘m tired,” he says softly.

“I know.” Sting settles back into the couch and wraps both arms around him tightly. “Go to sleep, love. We’re all right here, and we’re not going anywhere.”

Before Gray can say anything, there’s a loud meow from the ground, then a pressure on his legs as Frosche hops up onto him. She immediately starts up a rumbling purr and squirms under the blanket until she’s curled up on Gray’s lap.

“Hey,” Gray says quietly, slowly running his finger over her head. She meows at him again and starts to knead his sweatpants, purring happily. “Thank you.”

Natsu says something else, but Gray’s already slipping into sleep, warm and comfortable against Sting’s chest. He’s not okay – his heart still aches and part of him still wants to end it all. But he’s safe, now, and loved, despite feeling broken, and it gives him hope.

Tomorrow, things might be better.

**Author's Note:**

> the steps that sting goes through when he's helping talk gray down are from the ASIST program (applied suicide intervention skills training). the acronym is ALGEE. 
> 
> A = assess for risk of suicide or harm  
> L = listen nonjudgmentally  
> G = give reassurance  
> E = encourage appropriate professional help  
> E = encourage self-help and other support strategies 
> 
> mental health first aid/crisis training is just important as physical first aid, and i think everyone should be take the training. the [centre for suicide prevention](https://www.suicideinfo.ca/workshop/asist/) gives more information about the ASIST workshop. 
> 
> mental health crisis teams are also a great thing, and sometimes better than calling 911 because the operators have specialized training. if you're in canada, [crisis services canada](https://www.crisisservicescanada.ca/en/) has a list of [resources and support](https://www.crisisservicescanada.ca/en/looking-for-local-resources-support/).
> 
> if you're in another country, here is a list of [suicide crisis lines](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines). you can also google 'crisis team + your city' to see if there's one in your area.


End file.
